Right here
by sierendipity
Summary: Two snap shots of the beginning of the relationship between Ron and Hermione - post DH, full of fluff. Reviews are loved. Chapter two for Dobby Rules all the Way - thanks for planting the idea of continuing :)
1. Chapter 1

Ron had never been more grateful for his four poster bed. He could almost pretend that the last ten months or so had been a dream – almost, except that the pain of all of it was still as sharp as ever.

Not to mention, under no ordinary circumstances would Hermione be sleeping on the bed next to him in the boys' dormitories. Dean had gone home to his family who Ron knew he hadn't seen in months taking Seamus, his best friend and fellow seventh year Gryffindor, who had missed him for nearly as long, leaving Ron, Harry, Neville and two empty beds to fill. Hermione and Ginny had graciously offered.

Ron closed his eyes and listened for the comforting sound of Hermione's even breathing – something he had grown well accustomed to after months of sleeping feet from her in a tent. There was Neville's soft, familiar snore, Harry's labored breathing that gave Ron the impression that his dreams were anything but peaceful, and Ginny's sigh and whistle …

He sat up, listening harder. He turned to the side, straining his eyes for her raised silhouette in the dark. After a moment of adjusting, there was no mistaking the empty bed.

Ron jumped to his feet, unreasonably panicked. Surely she was just in the loo … but he had been awake for a long time. If she was only using the toilet, she should have been back by now. How had he not realized her absence earlier?

Fighting back panic, he half tip toed, half ran across the dormitory, taking care to be quiet as he slipped out the door. He crept down the boys' staircase and into the common room, about to head for the portrait hole when he suddenly noticed a curled shape in the darkness, huddled on the loveseat. Even in the darkness, Ron recognized her bushy mane immediately.

For a moment he thought she was asleep, but he quickly realized that she was shaking. He rapidly crossed the room, sliding onto the seat next to her. She jumped a bit, then looked up and realized it was him. She allowed him to put his arms around her and pull her close. Then she buried her head in his chest and continued to weep.

Ron stroked her hair, holding her in the dark, letting her take a turn to fall apart. All that day she had consoled him, held him, laced her fingers sweetly through his just as he felt like he was about to explode. She had been a woman of stone, comforting him, Ginny, Harry, his mum, and just about anyone else she had seen needing a shoulder. She had done more than anyone he had seen in repairing the castle and tending to the wounded and heartbroken. Still, she hadn't left his side the entire time.

Hermione had more right than anyone to fall apart, and it was by no means a punishment to comfort her. On the contrary, Ron could have gone on holding her for hours.

After a moment, Ron pointed his wand at the fireplace and murmured, "Finite." A warm fire ignited, brightening the room, casting shadows across the two of them.

Still, he held her, alternating stroking her hair and rubbing her back. Periodically, he placed a kiss on top of her head, and relished in the feeling that accompanied holding a safe Hermione secure in his arms. He was alive and she was alive and the pain of the day still bit like a knife, but she had kissed him and she was here and nothing else, for that moment, mattered at all.

Ron didn't know how long they sat there, holding each other. It could have been moments or days, but it was of no consequence. They didn't speak, but after a while, Hermione stopped shaking and slid her arms more firmly around his waist. He had pulled her almost completely onto his lap, their legs tangled together, and was acutely aware of the fact that they were alone, in the dark and closer than he imagined they'd ever been. She was warm and soft and pressing against him at all angles. All walls were down. They'd been down for too bloody long without him making a move and, so help him, he was not going to make the mistake again.

He pressed his lips to her forehead, then each of her cheeks. He felt rather than heard her breath hitch in her chest, and his own heart raced. He kissed each of her closed eyelids and her nose, and then paused, inches from her face. Her wet eyes fluttered open and met his own.

For an endless instant, they stared at each other.

"Thank you, Ron," she whispered, and the way that she chewed on her lip was both achingly familiar and maddeningly irresistible.

"Hermione…"

"Yes?"

Both of their voices were so hushed that they were more mouthing words by now.

He paused. "You're the most beautiful girl I've ever seen."

Even after everything that had happened vocalizing his thoughts took more courage than he thought he possessed. However, it was more than worth it when he saw the way she beamed.

Unable to hold back any longer, Ron covered her mouth with his.

The kiss was sweet, slow and intense – everything that Ron had dreamed of for years. It was different than the desperate, frenzied kiss in the Room of Requirement that had been laced with terror and impatience. This kiss was, at least in Ron's mind, a promise to her. He felt it in the deepest part of his being, and knew that he wouldn't trade anything for this moment. It felt nothing like the shallow snogging he'd experienced with Lavender that had been more hollow entertainment than any show of genuine emotion.

Hermione's hands slid to cup his face, leaning back into the arm rest and pulling him gently so that he was lying on top of her, fingers on her waist and in her hair. He broke away from her for a moment to trail feather kisses down her neck. She made a noise half way between a sigh and a whimper, and when his mouth met hers again, it was with more urgency.

Her hands were running through his hair, fingernails occasionally grazing his neck, igniting fire in his gut. He pulled her closer and she complied, pushing against him. She whispered his name in a husky, delicious voice that made Ron's heart thud madly against his rib cage.

Ron's hands were at her waist, sliding around her back. Her shirt had slid up, leaving the small of her back exposed. Her skin felt hot against his, tantalizingly so, and he forced himself to pull back before he got too carried away.

"What is it?" she asked breathlessly, gazing at his face. "Is something wrong?"

The very idea was so ludicrous that he let out a soft chuckle. "No, Merlin, it's perfect. Everything is perfect."

She smiled, and this time it was rather coy. The butterflies in Ron's stomach were getting out of hand.

"You really are," she told him frankly.

For a moment, Ron couldn't speak. Hermione – the most perfect person on the planet, the girl he would have traded anything to have the moment he just did with her had just called _him_ perfect, speaking as though she had never meant anything more in her life. After everything that had happened and now this, Ron felt a knot of emotion in his throat and was mortified to feel his eyes burning.

He could see that she understood as she grinned and pressed her lips once, twice, three times softly to his.

His hand slid to the back of her neck and into her hair. The next words he said slipped out unchecked, the most natural thing in the world.

"I'm in love with you."

It was Hermione's turn to be at a loss for words. He could read the shock in her face, and he opened his mouth to try and rectify what he imagined must have been a horrible mistake. He needn't have. She was suddenly smiling like the sun, and he was pleased to see that he had controlled his emotions at least better than she did as tears spilled from her eyes.

"Oh Ron," she murmured, touching his face, "I'm so in love with you."

His mouth was on hers again, kissing her fiercely as she wrapped her arms around him, holding him flush against her. They were tangled together, the only sound their breathing. After another endless moment, Hermione broke away.

"Ron."

"Yeah?" He blinked, refocusing.

"Er … I don't want to spoil this lovely moment or anything –"

Ron sat up, cold reality washing over him. The phrase "too good to be true" ran through his head.

"What's wrong?"

He stared at her wild hair and just-kissed lips and thought that he had never seen her look more lovely. The thought that he might never again see her like this was unbearable.

"Nothing's wrong. Just wondering … what are we now, exactly?"

Of course – this was Hermione. She was already worrying about conventions.

"Blimey … I hadn't really thought about it much. What do you want to be?"

"Well I don't know. I want …" she gestured between the two of them. "I want this."

"Right …" he mimicked her gestures, teasing "_this_ is good."

"I don't mean just _that_," she flushed, smiling. "I mean you and me."

"I want that too," he admitted, nodding.

"Just … at what level?"

Ron felt his face heating up. "Er … I reckon this level is fine – I mean, anything more … extravagant … well, I mean I don't want you to think that I want you to – " He noticed that she was holding back laughter and stopped.

"All right what have I said now?"

Hermione laughed out loud, but it wasn't mocking. It sounded more nervous than anything. "I meant level as in what are we calling this? Are we a couple now?"

Ron was nodding before she had even finished speaking.

"So we are?" she prodded. "Am I your girlfriend?"

He met her eyes again. Girlfriend felt odd – shallow, and inadequate. "I don't know, Hermione. I want you … I mean, I want to be together. I want to hold your hand in public and sneak off and snog you at those awful family get togethers. I want everyone to know that it's you and me and sure, that you're my girlfriend, but that just doesn't seem to really cover it."

Hermione was smiling more than he had seen in months.

"What about all the teasing? You know your family is never going to let this rest."

Ron barked out a laugh that made Hermione jump a little.

"Honestly? Hermione … all my life they've given me grief about hating spiders and being the baby brother and loads of stuff that was just to embarrass me. There is nothing embarrassing about being the luckiest, most undeserving git in the world. Why should it bother me if they point out the best thing that's ever happened to me?"

He had hardly finished the last word before Hermione had jumped on top of him, pushing him back into the couch, her arms wrapped around his neck, hugging him fiercely. He hugged her back, both bemused and right chuffed to have had her react so favorably to what he was saying. He couldn't believe he hadn't already botched his words somehow.

"You. Are. Completely. Wonderful," Hermione punctuated each word with kisses all over his face. It wasn't long before he had found her mouth again, though he was sure that this was not the last he would hear of this conversation. Hermione – always prepared – would want every detail of their relationship mapped out and identified. He was sure they would still fight – honestly, he wouldn't want to give that up anyway – but none of that was important right now.

For now, they were both alive and in each other's arms. She had told him she loved him, and for at least the near future, Ron planned on making the most of the empty common room, warm fire, and beautiful girl in his arms.


	2. Chapter 2

**September 16, 1998**

"Are you going to Hogsmeade this weekend?"

Hermione glanced up from the letter she was holding. "Oh … hello Geoffery."

She vaguely recognized the boy as an upper classman – maybe a sixth year?

"Hello … erm, did you hear my question?"

Her hands clenched the well-creased paper.

"Oh, right, yes. I'm so sorry, but I'm actually seeing someone."

He backed into the side table.

"Yeah, right, you know, I guessed that. Er, that Weasley boy, right?"

Hermione smiled sympathetically. "Yes – Ron Weasley, but thank you Geoffery. I really do appreciate the invitation."

He nodded, beet red, and stumbled out of the portrait hole. Hermione stared worriedly after him for a moment, before turning back to the parchment in her hands.

_Dear Hermione,_

_ Life is rubbish. Auror training is going well – I figured Harry would be a star, but it turns out that people here are fascinated with gingers, so I'm rather popular. I think they like me more for my experimental purposes (as if I have anything to do with gingerroot, really.), but I reckon they're a good lot._

_ Yeah, auror training is going well, it's brilliant at the flat (the perfect bachelor pad), they always give us the longest lunch break at the office, and the weather is smashing._

_ Life is rubbish. The days go by about as fast as Slughorn runs. (Then again, I reckon he could work up a nice trot if he were being chased.). It's been what – two weeks? Blimey … two weeks and I'm already going batty. I'm discussing the running habits of my old potions teacher for Merlin's sake. _

_ It's not just all the – you know, physical stuff either. Don't get me wrong – I miss the snogging and hand holding and hugging and all that like you wouldn't believe, but everything's wrong when you're not here. Harry and I are pathetic duffers. We don't even know what to do with ourselves or our food … and it's hard work. Too much bloody work and I finally realize that we would have fallen on our faces throughout Hogwarts if it weren't for your wonderful self._

_ Wonderful, beautiful, witty, intelligent, magnificent self._

_ Can you tell I miss you? I'm a right girly mess. Mum thinks I've gone mad. I probably have. Bill was always the sap. (I bet you'd never guess that. Reckon that's why he attracted women. He showed them his sensitive side…)_

_ Anyway, Christmas could not come soon enough. _

_ Now, on to yourself. How are all your classes? I saw your schedule – I reckon you're more barking than I am. Advanced Muggle Studies? Dad's wildly jealous, I'm sure. Don't overload yourself too much. I suppose you'll have more time now that Harry and I aren't pestering you for answers. _

_ Apparently I have to get back to work. Either way, this may be the longest letter I've ever written! Nearly a whole roll of parchment!_

_Love always,_

_Ron_

She felt the urge to cry, which didn't surprise her. More and more, her tendency had strayed towards overemotional. It was miserable – she felt like she always had a headache. She could hear his voice as clearly as though he were sitting next to her reading it out loud.

He had been wrong. He and Harry were not the lost ones. She was. She had no idea what to do with herself without them. If Ginny wasn't also at Hogwarts, Hermione didn't think she could have stood another day, let alone the rest of the year.

"So … you almost had a date."

Hermione sighed, scooting over so that Ginny could slide onto the sofa next to her.

"No. I never would have said yes."

Ginny nodded, smiling. "I know. Can I see?"

Hermione handed her the letter. Ginny read over it, laughing occasionally, rolling her eyes at bits of it.

When she finished, she sighed and handed it back to Hermione.

"I've never seen him write so much in a letter."

"Nor have I." Hermione smiled fondly.

"All right. Enough of his pining and mooning around."

Hermione was startled. "Excuse me? Miss 'I'd be ok with going to classes if only I knew that I could skip with Harry once in awhile like before?' _I'm_ the one mooning around? You're just as bad as I am!"

"Exactly! We both need a break. You _do_ have a date to Hogsmeade this weekend … with me."

"All right. Impressing my boyfriend's baby sister couldn't do any harm."

They both sniggered at the ludicrous idea that Hermione had to impress Ginny, or that Ginny was merely Ron's sister. They had been close friends for years.

"Good. See you Saturday." Ginny winked saucily and sauntered out of the portrait hole, leaving Hermione with a smirk on her face.

Getting out with Ginny would be a lovely change to the dreary monotony that her schedule packed with an excess of underclassmen and a shortage of Ron and Harry had taken on. Looking at the list of Hogsmeade dates again, she sighed. This one would fall on September 19th. Yes, a change with Ginny would be nice. But spending her birthday without her two best friends was still a daunting prospect.

**September 19, 1998**

The morning of their Hogsmeade date could not have come soon enough. Three days of classes had never felt longer to Hermione. When Saturday morning finally arrived, she went down to breakfast with a skip in her step. She was looking forward to the day and a breakfast that would actually carry some mail for once – she was expecting at least three letters: one from Harry, one from Ron and one from her parents.

When the owls flew in, she glanced up eagerly. One, two, three letters – just as she'd expected, and two packages to go along. She deftly caught two newspapers as well – her daily copy of both the Quibbler and the Daily Prophet. For now, however, she set them aside, glancing at her small stack of mail.

The first envelope was a letter from Molly. Hermione beamed, but wondered which person hadn't sent her a letter if one was from Ron's mum. She tore open the seal.

_Hermione,_

_ Happy birthday, dear. Arthur and I wanted to let you know how grateful we are for your friendship with our children. We've always considered you one of the family, and I hope that soon you will make that official, if you get my meaning._

_You are a wonderful young witch that continues to amaze us. Never forget that you are always welcome in our home. Write if you need anything._

_Much love._

_Molly and Arthur_

Slipped inside was a photograph taken the summer before fourth year, just preceding the World Cup. She, Ron and Harry were laughing, walking in from the garden at the Burrow. Ron kept glancing over at her, but she was distracted, head thrown back in mirth. Harry stood on Ron's other side, rolling his eyes and smirking at the two of them.

On the back, Molly had scrawled another note.

_This photo reminds me of how things should always be. – Molly _

Hermione gazed fondly at it for a moment before moving on to the next letter. To her utmost surprise, it was from Neville.

_Hermione,_

_ My remembrall was glowing today, so I checked the calendar and saw that it was your birthday. It's didn't stop glowing, so I reckon that I've still forgotten something, but I just thought I'd write you a note and tell you to have a wonderful day and thank you for how kind you always were to me at Hogwarts. I hope things are going well for you._

_-Neville_

The gesture was kind, but, still confused, she picked up the last letter. It was from her parents. She scanned the words quickly, too distracted by the lack of birthday wishes from Harry or Ron to read in detail. Her parents had sent her a glossy, hardcover set of her favorite muggle series, "Anne of Green Gables." The final parcel was at least a month's supply of cement-like treacle fudge from Hagrid.

She was thrilled by the gifts and well wishes, but felt guilty as she still felt some lingering disappointment. How could her two best friends have forgotten her birthday?

Ginny was just arriving at the house table. Oddly, she made no comment on the pile of mail in front of Hermione's plate or on the fact that it was her birthday. Scratch that – her _three_ best friends had forgotten.

"Mind if I borrow this?" she gestured to the copy of the Quibbler.

Hermione shook her head. "No, you're welcome to it."

"Mm. Thanks."

Ginny said nothing else, just finished her breakfast in silence as she devoured an article on the classification of a Mackled Malaclaw as three stars, muttering under her breath about how it really should be lowered.

The moment Hermione placed her fork on her plate, Ginny tossed the newspaper back to the table.

"Ready?"

Hermione nodded, smiling weakly, hoping that her slightly dampened spirits would not show through. She needn't have feared. Ginny didn't spare her a second glance, moving towards the doors of the great hall with nothing but energy for the day ahead of them.

When they arrived in the village, Hermione was cheered up almost immediately. Honeydukes was bustling with business, the Three Broomsticks looked bright and cheery, and Hermione was itching to spend some quality time in Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop, needing some new writing supplies.

"Would you mind if we headed over there?" she asked Ginny, nodding in the building's direction. Ginny, looking distracted, suggested a quick butterbeer instead.

"Would you mind?"

Hermione shook her head, following her friend forlornly into the "Three Broomsticks."

They grabbed a booth together, Hermione thinking back on all the times she, Ron and Harry had come here. It seemed strange to be here now with only Ginny, her birthday passing by without notice. She wouldn't have minded that, except that for her first birthday spent actually together with Ron, it hurt that he had forgotten.

"I didn't realize such attractive girls came to this place."

Hermione heard the gruff male voice behind her and cringed, hoping desperately that the drawling words weren't directed at her and Ginny.

"Me neither. What are such fine, young things doing out this way?"

"I dunno. I don't think I've seen females so attractive in all my life."

The words were closer now, but she resolutely stared forward, determined not to look at the men. Ginny apparently hadn't noticed, because she had begun to hum, looking the other way.

"Maybe we should ask them."

_Please don't,_ Hermione begged silently.

"Excuse me, miss?"

Hermione paused. The voice had a sudden, familiar edge. Still, she pretended not to hear it.

"Miss? Miss … er, Granger, is it?"

She froze. Merlin. It couldn't be ….

Her head turned the slightest amount, almost involuntarily.

Everything was suspended for a fraction of a second, and then she was hurdling into his arms, smacking into his chest with enough force that he grabbed a nearby table so as not to go crashing to the floor.

"Happy birthday, stranger," he laughed, and she held onto him tighter as she felt it reverberate through his chest.

"Mm. Fancy seeing you here."

They were kissing in the next instant, and Hermione could feel herself smiling against his lips – Ron's lips – that had been missing so painfully from her life. One of his arms had snaked around her waist, gently tugging her closer until she was practically standing on his toes. His unoccupied hand had buried itself into her hair, cradling her face.

Hermione stood on tip toes, arms around his neck, stretching as high as she could.

When they broke apart an eternity later, Hermione remembered that she was here with someone else.

"Gin – " she trailed off, grinning, to see Harry and Ginny wrapped in a similarly intimate embrace. Ron's hand found hers, and his face was suddenly next to hers.

"Perfect. They're giving us time to get away."

His arm slid around her shoulders and hers fell easily into place around his waist. They made their way out of the pub. The moment they had crossed the doorway, she rounded on him.

"You're here! You're both here!"

Ron chuckled.

"'Course I am. We've only been together four months. Blimey, you didn't expect me to botch up my girlfriend's first birthday with her, did you?"

She grabbed his face and kissed him again, but this time, he was the one that pulled away too soon.

"As much as I could literally do that all day every day, I insist that we take a break to give you your present."

Her eyebrow quirked. "Really? I thought this – " she gestured between them, "was kind of it."

Ron snorted with laughter. "Merlin, no. I'd have to be out of my bloody mind to give myself as a present, wouldn't I?"

"Not if you were giving it to me, you wouldn't. I honestly didn't want anything in the world today more than to see you."

She could see the tell-tale traces of pink ghosting along his ears and down the sides of his face. He cradled her chin for a sweet moment, looking at her like she was all he wanted, too.

"Nineteen days it's been," he murmured. She nodded, scowling. "Right misery."

She kept bobbing her head in assent.

"I've missed you a lot." Ron's voice cracked on the last syllable.

"I've missed you too. Too much." She buried her face in his shirt, inhaling deeply, reveling in his scent and his presence and his Ron-ness in general. His arms were around her, stroking her hair in a gesture that he had perfected long before they were ever officially a couple.

"Time for your present now." His words were spoken into her hair.

She pulled away a bit, looking around for where he might have left a parcel. Grinning broadly, he reached into his pocket, pulling out a package much too large to have fit in it. "I performed an invisible extension charm – "

"Undetectable," she corrected without thinking.

"Just like you did on your purse!"

He looked entirely too pleased with himself.

"Brilliant!" she congratulated him warmly, and he handed over the gift.

"Now don't think this is something weird or anything, because I've had it looked into – it's perfectly safe."

Hermione's eyebrows shot up to her hairline. For a wild moment she thought of one of Luna's father's crazy creatures, or some dangerous potion …

She tore open the wrapping and found nothing but a stack of parchment.

"Oh … thanks, Ron."

He chortled at her miffed expression.

"No, Merlin, I did not give you a stack of school supplies. It never runs out. And all you've got to do is write someone's name on the top of the paper – spell it right, mind you – and if they have the other half, whatever you write will appear on their parchment as well. It's brilliant for passing notes, but the best part is that there is no distance limit. At least, not one that would restrict passing notes from … say … the Auror offices at the Ministry to a certain Advanced Muggle Studies classroom at Hogwarts."

Passing notes with Ron, right in the middle of class. Imagine.

"Ron," she breathed, and for a moment he looked so nervous that she had to laugh. "This is perfect. Absolutely perfect!"

He breathed a sigh of relief, but held up a hand when she moved to hug him in thanks.

"Wait. There's this too." He pulled out another package and tossed it to her. After tearing off the wrapping, she paused as she eyed the velvet box in her hand. She opened it carefully gasped a little.

"Oh, Ron."

It was a charm bracelet. Inspecting it closely, she noted the image of a chess piece, a small book with the title, "Magical Me" that made her roll her eyes, a hypogriff charm, a miniature Triwizard Tournament Cup, a small galleon, a golden bird (she eyed him and he shrugged and smiled bashfully.), a tiny deluminator and, finally, a smaller Basilisk fang.

"One for every year," she murmured, fingering the charms with awe. "Ron. It's beautiful."

When she looked up at his expression, she realized that his nonchalance had been entirely an act. He had been gauging her reaction the whole time.

"It's perfect," she reiterated, and if only to confirm her words, held out the box and her free hand. Trembling slightly, he hooked it around her arm. She shivered as his fingers brushed the sensitive portion of skin on the inside of her wrist.

Their eyes met, and there was such an intensity that Hermione's first instinct was to look down, to blush, to bashfully turn away. But something in the startling blue held her there, drew her closer to the boy whose fingers were inching down her wrist to thread through her own.

"I'm in love with you, you know," he told her softly, brushing his thumb over her lips. Her eyes fluttered shut, leaning into him.

"I know. And the gifts are perfect."

"_You_ are perfect."

She smiled wryly. "Smooth talk. And for what it's worth, I'm in love with you too."

"At least a few galleons."

"You're incorrigible."

He closed the distance between their mouths again. Hermione's arms were around his waist as his fingers got lost in her wild curls. Her sigh was muffled, lost in the rush of Ron – his hands, his smell, his lips, the hard muscles she could feel beneath his shirt –

"Not that I don't want you two to continue snogging each other's faces off in a public street, but if I could interrupt and deliver my considerably less impressive gift?"

They pulled apart to find a glowing Ginny with her hand held tightly in Harry's. She handed over a small parcel filled with several of Hermione's favorite quills as well as a letter. Harry's present was a brand new hand bag to replace her tattered one from the journey.

"It's already got the charm on it," he explained, and Hermione threw her arms around both of their necks in turn.

"Thank you all. Thank you both," she addressed Harry and Ron. "There's no one I'd rather see today."

"Please, no weeping," Ginny cut in. "How about we continue this celebration with some butterbeer and firewhiskey?"

Linking arms with Harry, she led the way back into the "Three Broomsticks," while Ron and Hermione walked, arms around each other, behind them.

"Happy birthday," Ron murmured, kissing the top of her hair.

"Yes it is," she smiled, and held him closer.


End file.
